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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680067">learning to speak your language</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisscross/pseuds/crisscross'>crisscross</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fluency [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Bathing/Washing, Character Study, Communication, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Feel-good, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hair, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Haircuts, Jaskier | Dandelion Has ADHD, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Love Languages, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Polyamory, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, also, dynamic study, geralt of rivia is an idiot, mostly for the last chapter, my brand of romance writing is slow burn speed run, non-sexual nudity, realizing things(tm), the polyamory negotiations will come later dont worry, the sexiest form of love . learning to fucking communicate please god geralt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:41:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisscross/pseuds/crisscross</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>it started out with a braid, how did it end up like this?? it was only a braid... it was only a braid<br/>OR:<br/>geralt gets thoroughly annoyed into realizing that he has fallen good and hard and irreversibly in love with his bard. whoops!</p><p>* note : this fic used to be named 'pretty', but has been revamped after a one-shot turned into a much bigger mess of himbos having feelings</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fluency [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>501</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>in which i finished bingewatching the witcher yesterday and plan on playing the third installment as soon as i get a pro controller for my switch and use jaskier as a conduit for my overwhelming urge to play with geralts hair</p><p>on that note, obviously this is my very first witcher fic ! any feedback on how i write these two idiots is very welcome : - ) i do ship them, and while this work isnt explicitly shippy, you can definitely tell it was written by someone with geraskier brainrot. interpret it however you like!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Have you considered you might need a haircut soon?”</p><p>Geralt huffed in annoyance while he tended to the gradually growing campfire.</p><p>“Only every other time you’ve mentioned it this week. What do you care about how my hair looks?”</p><p>“It’s one of your features that’s rather strikingly pretty. Given that the rest of you is so brutishly hot, I think preserving its beauty is rather needed. Balance, and all that.”</p><p>Geralt didn’t comment on that. He did, however, find one thing worth mentioning - “well, shit luck, because we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing I can do about it.”</p><p>“Well… Maybe <em>you</em> couldn’t, but,” he heard the rustle of fabric, “I <em>do </em>happen to have scissors and some expertise in using them.”</p><p>Geralt glanced back at Jaskier over his shoulder - at the metal, claw-looking spring scissors in his dextrous hand, blades gleaming from the light of the fire.</p><p>“And I am meant to trust you with a weapon near my neck?”</p><p>“Oh, Geralt, dearest,” Jaskier tutted, wrist going limp in a similarly cocky manner to the bard's eye-roll. “If I wanted to slit your throat, I would have done it years ago in your sleep. I doubt you could say anything in the time it will take to groom you that might change that.”</p><p>“You underestimate me.”</p><p>"Try me. I am a very patient being."</p><p>Geralt's lip suffered an infinitesimal quiver with the effort of suppressing a laugh.</p><p>"Even as you're busy howling with laughter, your hair grows ever harder to salvage," Jaskier said, teasing, and of course he read the witcher clearer than anyone else by now, what else should Geralt expect from the stubborn git. Jaskier stepped over the toppled tree trunk he had been sitting on himself, tapping the surface like he was calling a disobedient dog. "Come."</p><p>They didn't call him a wolf for nothing, Geralt supposed, a gruff sigh leaving him as he stood up, and resigned himself to the bard’s beauty-related whims. If nothing else, it might shut Jaskier up.</p><p>(No, of course it wouldn’t.)</p><p>“I’ll complain the whole time,” Geralt added, as Jaskier undid the length of twine that held the front of his hair out of his face.</p><p>"I wasn't under the impression that that might change, but thank you anyways for the warning."</p><p>Geralt scoffed, trying to ignore the unusual sensation of hands fussing about his hair. “I don’t  <em>usually </em>complain. Not as much as you.”</p><p>“No, you don’t usually <em>speak </em>as much as me,” Jaskier said, sounding amused as he parted sections. “But there is variety to the things I say. I imagine you find most of it annoyingly positive and pretentious. On the rare occasion that <em>you </em>speak, however, it’s all complaining. Usually aimed at me, you know.”</p><p>“Perhaps that’s not a sign of my behavior, but one that I should look into getting rid of you.”</p><p>Jaskier leaned down over him, hands on his shoulders, a triumphant and unbearably smug grin on his face as their eyes met - “you’ve tried that already, many, many times, dear friend. And no matter how many times you keep trying, it will never, ever, work.”</p><p>“And why <em>is</em> that?” Geralt said, pretending to be annoyed rather than relieved or amused, while Jaskier returned to work. “No one has ever been as stubborn as you when it comes to knowing me.”</p><p>“I like you. You’re interesting. An endless source of lyrical fodder, yes, but I find myself personally invested in your survival and well-being, purely because of enjoying your sour company.”</p><p>“...You’re still aware of my job description, yes?”</p><p>“Of course. It gives me daily heart attacks.”</p><p>Geralt scoffed again, as to avoid laughing. His hands were at his thighs, nails digging into his breeches as he attempted to relax, or at least be complacent with the attention and care in the fingers that ran through his hair. Occasionally, they brushed against his scalp or his neck, and he found himself physically suppressing shivers. Jaskier might notice, and ask questions.</p><p>“Why on <em>earth</em> are you so tense, Geralt?” The man said after a bit, evidencing that his efforts to be stoic didn’t matter, because of course they didn’t, no rules mattered with Jaskier. “Ripping heads off of monsters and a simple haircut is giving you such hell? These scissors aren’t <em>that</em> sharp, you know. They would hardly even pierce your skin.”</p><p>Geralt turned a bit to look over his shoulder at Jaskier, assessing the scissors himself. Jaskier was right, they were of absolutely no physical threat to him - but Geralt couldn’t pretend to even himself that it was the shears which made him uneasy.</p><p>“It’s…” His face screwed up in distaste, looking for words. “...Intimate.”</p><p>Jaskier balked, an incredulous laugh on his voice - “me cutting your hair is <em>intimate?”</em></p><p>Geralt muttered a half-baked retort, turning away from the still-giggling bard again. They lapsed into silence, for a moment, as Jaskier’s gentle hands continued to work.</p><p>“I suppose I understand, though,” Jaskier murmured, alarmingly fond. “You don’t often do normal, domestic things such as this, hm?”</p><p>“Hm,” Geralt echoed.</p><p>“Might be a great deal more intimate for you than a shag, given it’s such a rarity. Not used to giving out that trust, I reckon?”</p><p>“I’d prefer if we did this without you trying to worm your way into my head.”</p><p>“So I’m correct,” Jaskier beamed, tone as self-satisfied as a cat stretching in the sun. “You trust me because I’m your friend, and that makes you nervous.”</p><p>“Whatever you need to tell yourself to fall asleep at night.”</p><p>Jaskier chuckled, resuming his work silently.</p><p>“I appreciate it, you know. Even if you won’t admit it in your own words. Your emotional vulnerability, scarce as it may be, means a lot to me.”</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>“There you go again,” Jaskier sighed, happily. “I like you so much, witcher.”</p><p>“You’re a madman.”</p><p>“Perhaps. A very skilled one, though - I would dare say I’m done!” He announced victoriously, stepping back from Geralt, circling him appreciatively. “Yes, that’s much better.”</p><p>Geralt’s gaze followed him, eyebrow cocked in a way that Jaskier was probably assigning various meanings to. Most of them were probably correct, as well. Such as, <em>‘you’re stupid and I like you so much too, bard’, </em>and,<em> ‘thank you’</em>. Jaskier smiled in return, and went to rummage around in his bag. He stood up once more, now holding a flat, silver circle, attached to a finely carved handle, pointed in Geralt’s direction.</p><p>“Two of your most essential travel items is a pair of scissors and a <em>hand mirror?</em>” Geralt said, though he did accept the offering.</p><p>“Of course! Have you seen me?”</p><p>“I wish not,” He grunted.</p><p>Jaskier held a hand over his heart, a melodramatically wounded gesture that made Geralt want to smash that mirror over his pretty head, but he resigned himself to its intended use, peering critically into the reflective surface.</p><p>“I know it doesn’t look like I did <em>much</em>, but I figured you’d prefer it that way,” Jaskier explained absentmindedly as he went about brushing silver hair snips off his pants, then cleaning his scissors. “And it does make a difference, in the long run!”</p><p>Jaskier was right, in that Geralt couldn’t exactly tell what the whole point of cutting his hair was when he looked exactly the same now as before - but, if there was one thing Jaskier was loudly better at than Geralt, it was maintaining appearances. He shook his head again, feeling the way his hair danced around his shoulders, pausing. “It does feel… Lighter.”</p><p>“See?” Jaskier beamed, kneeling before his bag as he put his scissors away.</p><p>“<em>Minutely,” </em>Geralt clarified with a snort, tossing the mirror to Jaskier, who shook his head with a smile as he caught it.</p><p>“It will make a difference. Would you like me to tie it back, as well?”</p><p>“No, but I don’t assume that matters.”</p><p>“No, not really,” and Jaskier was prancing behind him again, a comb in hand this time, and good god, Geralt was convinced by now that Jaskier had nothing but items with which to groom himself as much as a cat did packed in that bag.</p><p>He kept coming back to them, cat metaphors. He wondered if Jaskier saw himself that way as well.</p><p>He tilted his head back with a minor hum of appreciation as Jaskier began brushing his hair, which earned him a soft, melodic chuckle, and something that felt a bit too close to disappointment when the attention stopped so Jaskier could part his hair instead. He felt a pull, which was normal - but then Jaskier kept pulling, in a repetitive and almost rhythmic pattern.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Jaskier said, and by the tone of his voice he was <em>absolutely </em>doing something.</p><p>“You would be a fool for ruining things now, bard.”</p><p>“Good thing I’m not, then.” He finally tied the hank of hair back securely, and Geralt stood, shooting him a suspicious look as he walked towards the edge of the lake they were camped near. Jaskier didn’t look particularly mischievous, only as cocky as was normal for him, but looks could be deceiving.</p><p>Geralt kneeled, tilting his head in the reflection, until he caught sight of what Jaskier had been doing. He blinked, stared, then looked over his shoulder at the other man. “Why braids?”</p><p>Jaskier shrugged. “Why not? I thought it was pretty. Isn’t it?”</p><p>Geralt looked back down, eyes on the fine braiding in the subtly shifting mirror image of the water. There were two, outlining the section of hair that was tied back. It <em>was</em> pretty, which was the issue, as Geralt wasn’t really supposed to be <em>pretty</em> - but it was also fairly harmless, in the middle of the woods. He got up once more, turning back around to face Jaskier. “Right - are you done annoying me for the day?”</p><p>Jaskier had taken up residence on the log again, and he nodded, softly strumming the lute that always magically found itself in his arms the moment his hands were free. “Yes, I believe my quota is filled.”</p><p>“Wonderful.” Geralt walked around the campfire, settling down on his sleep mat. He sat for a while, elbows leaned on his knees, watching the fire and listening to Jaskier play and sing. Eventually, he lay down, gaze on the treetops above them. He could almost feel at peace like this, as if he were a regular traveler, and not the subject of many of Jaskier’s dramatic texts.</p><p>His head lolled to the side, eyes not particularly searching for anything until they locked with his companion’s.</p><p>Jaskier’s eyes were pretty. The crackle of flames added dancing flecks of light to the blue of the bard’s irises, only thinly visible around his dilated pupils. Geralt could only imagine his own looked as animalistic and wild as usual.</p><p>He hesitated, though not outwardly, as he wasn’t supposed to be unsure of anything.</p><p>“Play me something new?” Geralt then asked, quietly.</p><p>He watched Jaskier gear up to make a comment, and then he hesitated too, the air intended for snark being let out in a breathy chuckle instead. “Alright. I’m working on a lullaby, actually.”</p><p>Geralt scoffed, a smile playing at his lips as he relaxed against the sleep mat. “Inspired by someone?”</p><p>“Perhaps. Let’s see if it works, hm?”</p><p>“Hm,” Geralt said, closing his eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>well ........... this was going to be a one-shot, but you have a commenter named annex to thank for the update, bc they wrote a suggestion that i liked so much i decided to do it:<br/>'You should write a Geralt/Jaskier sequel where Geralt enjoyed the intimacy so much he keeps asking for Jaskier to cut and style his hair until Jaskier and Geralt stop being himbos and confess!!'<br/>obviously this means this fic is going to be pretty flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, as i didnt start it with a specific plan in mind, but i figure there will be two or three more chapters after this!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt wasn't sure how to go about it.</p><p>He wasn't sure if he should even go about it at all - it's not a wall he's used to letting down, and he has it up for a reason.</p><p>He was staring at Jaskier while the bard was tending to their firepit, babbling on about whatever was on his mind. Geralt tuned him out a long time ago.</p><p>Well - not tuned <em>out</em>, but unfocused enough until Jaskier's words melted into pleasant white noise, resounding melodically in his ears.</p><p>It had been a little over a week since Jaskier cut his hair, and Geralt couldn't stop thinking about it. He took out the braids a few days ago, after a particularly rough tumble with a beast messed them up beyond salvation. Really, he had only intended to let them sit for a day or two, but then Jaskier would glance in his direction and smile absent-mindedly at the braids as if he were fondly recounting the night they happened, and Geralt didn't want to take them out anymore. He didn't know why.</p><p>He didn't know why he missed the feeling of fingers in his hair, either. The gentle pull of a comb from the base of his head down to his shoulders. Jaskier's presence behind him, doing something so purely superficial - and for what? Nothing but the Witcher's enjoyment and comfort. It was different from the baths, or the tending to his wounds - while those were nice, they also happened to be necessary for Geralt's general health and safety. Cutting his hair, combing it and braiding it, generally touching it - all of that was unnecessary, yet Jaskier still did it, and Geralt didn’t know how to ask him to do it again. He sighed, rubbing at his temple.</p><p>"Copper for your thoughts?"</p><p>Geralt glanced over at Jaskier. “It’ll take a lot more than one.”</p><p>Jaskier laughed heartily, tossing his head back. Geralt’s eyes caught on the curve of his throat, his own jaw clenching.</p><p>“Ahhh… I would happily spend all my performance earnings finding out what it is you’re thinking, if that’s what it takes.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t really be worth it.”</p><p>“To hear your voice? Always would be, dearling.”</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>“Heh,” Jaskier raised his head again, eyes playful as they landed on Geralt. “Impossible.”</p><p>“Figures,” Geralt grunted.</p><p>“But, really,” Jaskier was getting up again now, brushing dirt off his trousers. “Is something the matter?”</p><p>“You.”</p><p>“Oh, boy,” a roll of blue indicated his familiarity with the sentiment. “What about me this time?”</p><p>Geralt grunted again, looking away.</p><p>“Come now, I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me the issue.”</p><p>A sigh. “When you cut my hair.”</p><p>“...Yes? Did I make a mistake?”</p><p>“No. Yes? I -” Geralt puffed air out through his nose in irritation, crossing his arms over his knees. “I don’t know.”</p><p>Jaskier stepped closer, his head tilted and eyebrows quirked in a thoroughly perplexed manner.</p><p>A second sigh. “Could you…”</p><p>Deep, agitated breath.</p><p>“Could you cut it again?”</p><p>“What?” Jaskier’s nose scrunched up, more confused than before. “You wish to go shorter? I mean, I’ll never be one to judge your hair choices, of course, but I thought you were fond of the length.”</p><p>“No, no,” Geralt shook his head, bit on his tongue. “I don’t want it shorter.”</p><p>“...Then I’m afraid your request is currently impossible, friend,” Jaskier threw out his hands helplessly.</p><p>“Hair grows?”</p><p>“Not <em>that</em> fast,” Jaskier laughed, then paused with a gasp - “lest Witcher hair grows faster? Oh, is <em>that </em>the case? I-”</p><p>“<em>No,” </em>Geralt rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t, as far as I know.”</p><p>“Ah. So you’re just being dumb, then.” Jaskier smiled, delighted. “I should have guessed. From my professional viewpoint, you don’t <em>look </em>as if you need a haircut. I could comb it for you, but-”</p><p>Geralt felt his chest tighten, and he nodded, perhaps a bit too quickly.</p><p>Jaskier blinked. “Wait, really?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Jaskier kept blinking. Slowly, a smug grin spread across his idiotic mug.</p><p>"I did notice, while I was combing your hair - you made this odd noise. I figured you were annoyed with me, or something, but… Were you <em>enjoying </em>it, Geralt?"</p><p>"<em>No</em>."</p><p>The response came so hurriedly, so deceptively firm that Geralt was sure Jaskier knew the true answer was yes. His hands, arrogantly poised on his hips, as well as his amused gaze, only added to that suspicion.</p><p>"In that case - if you want it so desperately, friend, I can certainly comb it for you again; No cutting needed."</p><p>"Hm," Geralt said, looking away again.</p><p>Jaskier laughed, and though Geralt still wasn't looking, he heard the sound of the bard's bag rustling, then leaves crushed underfoot before Jaskier sidled up behind him. The bard began to untie his hair.</p><p>"A 'please and thank you' would be nice, you know."</p><p>"Fuck off."</p><p>"Close enough."</p><p>As Jaskier was chuckling, Geralt felt fingers begin to gently run through his hair, undoing a few loose tangles. He truly wished the friendly gesture didn't feel as nice as it did, but when Jaskier brought the comb through his hair, Geralt damn near melted into the bard's attention. He hummed almost involuntarily in much the same way as the first time, and found himself embarrassed by it. Jaskier didn’t comment on it, though; No teasing or snark. Simply continued brushing Geralt’s hair, carefully straightening out knots and tousled strands.</p><p>Geralt felt vulnerable. The wall had been let down, and he was both panicking over it and tempted to let it <em>stay </em>down if these were the rewards he might reap.</p><p>They remained comfortably silent, simply listening to the crackle and pop of the fire, the slight rattle of leaves in the night breeze, Roach's occasional snort and nicker. Jaskier soon began to softly hum, and Geralt closed his eyes.</p><p>"Relaxed?" Jaskier murmured after a while.</p><p>"Hm," Geralt answered, the gentle delivery indicating that indeed he was.</p><p>Jaskier paused. "May I braid it again?"</p><p>Geralt snorted, opening his eyes again, glancing over his shoulder. "What is your obsession with braids about?"</p><p>"It's so nice to do!" Jaskier whined, leaning to the side to pout at Geralt. "Here you are hogging all these gorgeous locks to yourself, never doing anything to it. My own hair is too short."</p><p>"Grow it out."</p><p>"You're so <em>cruel</em> to me. Here I am, pampering you, yet you still mistreat me so. What did I do to deserve this, Geralt? Why, oh why-"</p><p>"<em>Fine.</em>"</p><p>Jaskier laughed, briefly leaning forward with the glee bubbling out of him, chest against Geralt's back. Instantly, whatever relaxing Geralt had managed to do tensed away again, shoulders taught as a bowstring as the bard's cheek rested on one.</p><p>Jaskier straightened up once more, and Geralt felt out of breath, though he didn't know why.</p><p>"Alright - I promise to make you very pretty," Jaskier cooed, comb now used to section off white hair.</p><p>"Witchers aren't meant to be pretty."</p><p>"Who says?"</p><p>Geralt paused. "The very laws of nature?"</p><p>"Feh," Jaskier dismissed, fingers making quick work of whatever he was doing to Geralt. "Besides, you have some explaining to do yourself, in that case."</p><p>"I thought you said everything but my hair was brutishly hot."</p><p>"I'm prone to dramatics. What I meant is - <em>most </em>of you is brutishly hot, but you happen to have some beauty as well."</p><p>"<em>Where?</em>" Geralt was close to guffawing, the notion was so ridiculous.</p><p>"Where to start!" Jaskier sighed dramatically, tossing a finished braid over Geralt's shoulder to keep it safe. "Very alluring lips. I admit that on the rare occasion that you happen to smile, it's a gamble whether it's going to be gorgeous, terrifying, or infuriating, but it's a worthy play. The dimple on your chin. Your eyes, as well. And I won't deny that your bum is a <em>very </em>pretty sight."</p><p>"That's -" Geralt struggled for words for a moment - "first of all, it's all bullshit. Second, just how much attention do you pay to my <em>features?</em>"</p><p>"I need to be as detailed as possible in my songs, you know," Jaskier tutted, a second braid opposite the first getting tossed as well. Geralt wondered what on earth he was doing. He felt the rest of his hair being gathered, unwittingly leaning into it, muscles relaxing again due to the petting.</p><p>"Why?" Geralt asked distractedly, once he remembered they were having a conversation.</p><p>"If I am to spend my days bolstering your reputation, I may as well get the physical aspects right, too. Some people think you a hideous monstrosity. I think it a shame that anyone be robbed of the truth of the matter."</p><p>Geralt snorted. "And part of that plan is an ode to my ass?"</p><p>Jaskier laughed. "I hadn't thought of that, but now that you mention it -"</p><p>"Oh, no."</p><p>The bard's interrupted sentence fizzled out into a snicker, while his hands gathered the two large braids with the rest and twisted loosely. Finally, he tied it back, a bit more finessing here and there before leaning back with a satisfied huff. "There! I think that's rather lovely."</p><p>Geralt - carefully, so as not to get scolded by Jaskier - reached up to feel the bard’s handiwork. Two braids crowned his scalp, tied back into a ponytail with the rest of his hair.</p><p>“Thoughts?”</p><p>Geralt shrugged indifferently. "Keeps the hair off my face."</p><p>"See? <em>Useful</em>. You'll let me do it much more from now on, yes?"</p><p>“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”</p><p>“Funny, I hear that a lot.”</p><p>Geralt hmm-ed.</p><p>Jaskier leaned in again, like he did when he was laughing before - Geralt stiffened in much the same way as well, and doubly so when hands were placed on his waist. Jaskier's chin rested on Geralt's shoulder, and the bard pouted at him.</p><p>"Pleaaaaase?"</p><p>For gods' sakes, he looked like a starved puppy.</p><p>"Alright. Now get off me," Geralt grunted, shrugging Jaskier's now gleeful face away.</p><p>"Thank you very much," Jaskier grinned, scooting some distance from Geralt - now reaching for his lute. "I'll let you pick the first song I play tonight, as payment."</p><p>"Can I choose silence?"</p><p>"Nope!"</p><p>"Figures," Geralt scoffed, a smile on his face. "Alright - play…"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>whew, this chapter sure took a hot sec to get done! the good news is that i now have a good idea of where i want this fic to head, so the last two chapters should be done relatively fast : - ) enjoy these two idiot men being idiots</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were in a city - <em>finally</em>, as Jaskier had bemoaned upon spotting the gates in the distance.</p><p>It wasn’t much, but it was enough - enough people for contracts and some much needed entertainment, their combined efforts earning them a fairly luxurious room, compared to their usual digs.</p><p>Geralt hated it. Hated it, because being amongst civilization meant he didn’t dare let Jaskier braid his hair, and he was forced to face how much he enjoyed the quiet pastime. How much he enjoyed Jaskier’s presence behind him, chatty and warm and touching him.</p><p>Jaskier did still help him get clean, whenever he returned from a hunt - but scrubbing the worst of monster guts and mud and blood off of him until the bath water was so dirty it was unusable for any finer cleaning was hardly the same. It didn’t help that Jaskier was in such high demand around the city. Whenever the bard was whisked away to do his job, Geralt felt a sick, slimy cold in the pit of his stomach. He was starting to fear it may be jealousy.</p><p>Finally - finally, <em>finally,</em> Geralt’s workload eased. This meant they were running out of jobs. This meant they’d have to leave soon. Be back to being just them, as annoying as being <em>them</em> and not just <em>him</em> could be sometimes.</p><p>On their final night in the inn, Jaskier had insisted on a real, proper bath for Geralt - not that he had faced much resistance on the matter, mostly a shrug and an ‘okay’ - but he still looked pleased to have convinced him.</p><p>Geralt tried very hard not to look as if he had been <em>oh so hoping</em> Jaskier would suggest that very same thing, getting settled in the clean tub with an air of indifference.</p><p>"I wonder, Geralt," Jaskier's hands were on his hips, washrag draped over his shoulder, head cocked as he considered the Witcher's figure. "In a body like yours, do you <em>ever </em>get self conscious?"</p><p>Geralt snorted, shrugged in the water. "Why should I?"</p><p>Jaskier tilted his head back in a hearty laugh, bordering on a cackle - "that is <em>refreshingly </em>unmodest of you."</p><p>"I prefer not to brag, unlike someone."</p><p>"Pfft," Jaskier rolled his eyes, grabbing a handful of bath salts and tossing them into the water, unbothered. "You're a walking brag, Geralt - at least own up to it."</p><p>"Everyone but you seems to think I'm a walking guilt trip."</p><p>"Mmh." Jaskier conceded. Came around to the back of the tub, grabbing a vial of oil on the way - diluted lavender. Not enough of the scent to be noticeable for a human's nose, but just perfect for a Witcher.</p><p>Geralt was annoyingly touched by the gesture - had been since he realized Jaskier was actively diluting the oil himself, paying attention whenever Geralt wrinkled his nose at a scent or didn't react to it at all, until the balance was just right.</p><p>"Perhaps everyone but me is simply an idiot," came the murmur behind him, the sound of hands being lathered up before fingers slipped into the roots of his hair, massaging his scalp. Geralt sighed, leaning into it.</p><p>“Or perhaps you’re the biggest idiot of them all,” Geralt guessed - <strike>whined</strike> <em>grunted</em> in complaint when the attention to his hair stopped again.</p><p>“Don’t bite the hand that… Washes you, Geralt." The bard sounded so cocky, Geralt wanted to punch him and kiss him all at once.</p><p>…</p><p>Wait, what? No, no<em> - punch</em>. <em>Only</em> punch.</p><p>"Do you expect me to say I'm sorry?" Geralt grunted, distracting himself with banter.</p><p>"Yes, I do! This is a lot of work, you know. You have <em>so much hair</em> to go through."</p><p>"I never asked you to do it."</p><p>"No, but you love it," Jaskier practically purred, and Geralt hated that the self-satisfied bastard was right.</p><p>"... Sorry."</p><p>Jaskier gave a quiet chuckle, overbearing and endearing all at once, and the blissful attention to Geralt's hair returned.</p><p>He grumbled appreciatively, tilting his head back, the bard’s talented fingers working him into a contented puddle before running through his hair, detangling, combing, pampering.</p><p>“Why is it you do this, Jaskier?”</p><p>“Hmmm?” Jaskier sounded distracted, as if he were lost in his own work.</p><p>“You said yourself it’s a lot of work. Why do you go through the trouble if you don’t enjoy it-”</p><p>An annoyed huff interrupted him. "Oh, stop being so daft. Of course I enjoy it.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I enjoy doing it because it's <em>for you</em>."</p><p>"...<em>Why?</em>"</p><p>"Because I like you, you ox."</p><p>"Hm."</p><p>Jaskier's movements slowed to a stop, hands slipping down to rest on Geralt's shoulders.</p><p>"Why is it you don't believe me?"</p><p>He sounded unexpectedly tender - hurt, even. Geralt looked over his shoulder in alarm, up at Jaskier's puzzled and mildly saddened face.</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"Why is it you refuse to believe I enjoy your company, Geralt?" Jaskier kneeled to be at eye level with him, arms crossed over the edge of the tub, chin resting atop them.</p><p>Geralt turned to face him without having to strain his neck, lips tight in thought as he stared into the bard's eyes.</p><p>He was in dangerous territory, here. He felt he might hurt Jaskier's feelings if he gave the wrong answer, but - he didn't know what a right one was either. Didn't quite understand what Jaskier wanted from him.</p><p>"I've never said I don't," he settled on, testing the waters. Pun not intended.</p><p>"No, but I can tell with you," Jaskier sighed, tilting his head a bit, that confusing look he was examining Geralt with making him want to squirm. "We always have this same conversation, over and over. You ask why I'm doing something for you. I say it's because I <em>like</em> doing it for you. You ask why, I tell you why, you 'hm' at me, and the cycle repeats. Why do you think I'm <em>here</em>, Geralt? Not just in this inn, but - here, with you. On the Path."</p><p>Geralt bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. Why <em>was</em> Jaskier here? Well - he’d said it himself, long ago. “For inspiration.”</p><p>Jaskier’s face twisted in a way that told Geralt that that was <em>not</em> the correct answer - but he found the grimace unfair, because that <em>was</em> what Jaskier always said, wasn’t it? When the bard didn’t answer, Geralt felt the need to justify himself.</p><p>“You rarely give me any other reasons,” he said, quietly.</p><p>Jaskier blinked. “Haven’t I <em>showed you</em> enough other reasons?”</p><p>Geralt blinked back. “Huh?”</p><p>“You are hopeless,” Jaskier wheezed, fond. “I tell you every single time I do something nice for you, and you can’t figure out why. I’m here because I <em>like you.</em>”</p><p>Geralt’s brow furrowed. He saw now what Jaskier meant, about the repetitive conversations. Still, though… He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off almost immediately.</p><p>“If you ask me why I like you one more time, I will make off with your coin in the night.”</p><p>Geralt barked out a laugh, though he quickly interrupted himself to return to being <em>stern, </em>serious, demanding of answers. “I know your reasons for doing things for me, yes - you like me. I can accept that. I can’t accept why you like me, yet, because <em>I don’t know</em>. As far as I’ve been told, you enjoy me because I’m just that - inspiration. What other reasons could you have?”</p><p>“I’ve told you <em>that </em>before, too! Can you <em>really </em>not fathom that someone might find your company enjoyable?”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>Jaskier leaned away a little, eyes wide, taken aback. “Oh. Wow.”</p><p>“I’m insufferable, that much I know,” Geralt leaned back, his head resting against his palm. “I don’t know why you stick around. I truly don’t. I thought - “ Geralt breathed in deep, steadied his voice. Couldn’t get carried away by emotions. The emotions that he didn’t have. “I truly thought the mountain would be the last I ever saw of you.”</p><p>Jaskier’s brow furrowed. “But <em>you </em>sought <em>me </em>out. You found me just to apologize. Did you not think I’d accept?”</p><p>Geralt stayed silent.</p><p>“You’re a fool,” Jaskier sighed.</p><p>“So are you.”</p><p>The bard laughed, rubbed a hand over his face. He leaned back on his heels, determination suddenly overtaking his features as he met Geralt’s gaze.</p><p>“<em>Okay. </em>Would you like to know just why it is I like you so much, Geralt of Rivia? Why it is you inspire me in the first place?”</p><p>Geralt nodded, hesitantly.</p><p>“The first time we met - and I acknowledge that I was twice as insufferable then as either of us are now - you had every right to do worse than that punch in the gut. I expected you to, actually. Instead, you begged the elves to beat <em>you</em>, not me, because I wasn’t made to withstand it. You didn’t know who I was outside of the fact that I was a prick, yet you still showed me a glimpse of that gruff compassion of yours. <em>That’s</em> when I decided that the world's perception of you needed changing. That’s when I started not just being in awe of, but liking you. Want me to go on?”</p><p>Geralt nodded again. He had just been doing his job, then. He didn’t think that a true reason for Jaskier to like him.</p><p>“Alright, where to start,” Jaskier huffed, squinting up at the ceiling as he recalled memories. “Once one learns to distinguish your deadpan jokes from legitimate commentary, you’re hilarious. Despite your rather rude statements on some, your bluntness is quite a helpful critique of my songs. No one ever gives me a straight answer such as you do. You have this way of remaining - or at least appearing - calm in a stressful situation, and it is my anchor for navigating the world. Even, or especially, when you’re not around - ‘<em>what would Geralt do?’.</em> You’re unbelievably graceful, for the hunk of man that you are. I could write many ballads purely waxing poetic of the way your body moves on a hunt, during a fight, carrying a sword as if it weighed nothing. And all the same, you are a <em>slob </em>and a being of laziness where you can afford it. You are ruthless, and you are tender. You are so paradoxical, Geralt, it only makes <em>sense</em> I should like you and cherish your existence as much as I do. I…”</p><p>Jaskier paused, looking at him with an amused quirk of his lip.</p><p>“I think I need to stop, now, lest you have a stroke.”</p><p>Geralt opened his mouth. Closed it. Repeated that a couple of times. Looked away.</p><p>He felt Jaskier’s hand on his bicep.</p><p>“Do you understand, now, why it is I say like you so much?”</p><p>He swallowed. Nodded. Even if he didn’t believe any of it, he just needed to know that Jaskier did.</p><p>“Good. It’s important to me that you know.” The hand retreated. Geralt missed it.</p><p>“Why?” His voice came out softer than he expected. <em>Fragile,</em> he thought bitterly.</p><p>"I want you to know you're not all alone here, in your heartbreaks and tragedy. You’re allowed to have <em>some </em>fun. To find the light in your life."</p><p>"I'm supposed to be alone," Geralt deflected, eyes downcast.</p><p>"And I'm supposed to be a respectable court bard who only travels by carriage and hasn't either shagged or angered every important person in the room. We can't deny our fates what they truly want, Geralt."</p><p>Geralt laughed, a quick and easy and relieved burst of mirth, glancing back up at Jaskier. "You are unrepentant."</p><p>"It's part of my charm," Jaskier grinned, big and bright and wonderful. "<em>Now, </em>will you start believing me? Will you stop asking me <em>why</em> when I tell you that I enjoy your company, that I like doing nice things for you?"</p><p>Geralt hmm'ed, not breaking eye contact. "...I'll try."</p><p>"Atta boy." Jaskier raised himself from the floor, patted his bicep in praise, as if he were rewarding a dog that just learned a new trick.</p><p>It worked.</p><p>The tension of the conversation seeped out of his shoulders as Jaskier returned to washing his hair, working Witcher-friendly scents into it. Scents Geralt always missed on the occasions that they parted.</p><p>“I like you, too,” Geralt finally murmured after gathering the courage, quiet enough he was afraid Jaskier might miss it and he would have to repeat himself. Jaskier paused for a moment, a soft chuckle sounding behind him.</p><p>“I know, Geralt. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>That night, Geralt <em>did </em>let Jaskier have his way with flowery braids. Damn the stares they might get as they left.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You know… I think I've got you figured out all wrong," Jaskier said one day, strolling beside Roach at a leisurely pace.</p><p>Geralt looked down at him, at the thoughtful gaze on his face. "What do you mean?"</p><p>"The way you communicate, and say things. Or, don't. See - I've always assumed you were above all a man of action, that you value gestures above words."</p><p>Geralt stared forwards again, considering it. "I don't know that I weigh either above the other."</p><p>"That's been my thought lately, too, ever since the last town," Jaskier agreed. "I was always under the impression that you knew how much I like you, you know. But perhaps I haven't been saying it in a way you understand."</p><p>"Hm." A pause. "How have you been saying it?"</p><p>"How do you think I have?"</p><p>The question wasn't sarcastic or patronizing; simply curious. Geralt let his grip on Roach's reigns slack as he thought, squinting up at treetops above them.</p><p>"Er… The oil?"</p><p>"Oil?" Jaskier sounded confused - then livened up, glee giving him a bounce in his step. "Oh, you <em>did</em> notice! Yes, indeed. I figure anything scented an inn set out meant for regular old humans would be an awful headache for a Witcher."</p><p>"You were right."</p><p>Jaskier laughed. "But it's better now, yes?"</p><p>Geralt nodded, slowly. "Yes. Thank you."</p><p>Jaskier beamed. It had Geralt racking his brain for more ways he might have missed Jaskier's subtle gestures of friendship in between all his ribbing and snark. He just wanted Jaskier to keep smiling like that.</p><p>"...The lullaby you wrote.”</p><p>Jaskier’s smile turned softer, which was somehow even better. “Yes. I know how difficult it can be for you to rest, sometimes. Though, I was surprised it actually <em>worked</em>.”</p><p>Geralt snorted. “Your music is good at being sleep inducing.”</p><p>“Okay,” Jaskier raised a hand in the air, pointing at Geralt. “<em>Uncalled </em>for, you bastard.”</p><p>Geralt chuckled, soft.</p><p>“This is a way too, y’know,” Jaskier continued. “I wouldn’t talk to someone like this, lest I considered us very good friends.”</p><p>“Calling me a bastard?”</p><p>“Yes!” Jaskier threw out his arms, “I couldn’t say that to - I don’t know, Yennefer, or something. And I wouldn’t let her joke about my music like that, either.”</p><p>“You seem very sure I’m joking about that.”</p><p>“Because my music is amazing, and anyone who says otherwise would undoubtedly suffer the wrath of the gods.” Shrug. “Simple as that.”</p><p>Geralt laughed, exasperated with his companion. “How does a man with as much hubris as yourself walk around unscathed?”</p><p>“I just told you! Aren’t I correct?”</p><p>“Perhaps, but you make me despise saying it.”</p><p>Jaskier beamed. “Thank you very much.”</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>A comfortable silence befell them - though only silent in the physical sense, because Geralt was thinking.</p><p>If Jaskier thought Geralt perceived affection through actions rather than words - had he believed Geralt showed affection in the same way, too? ...<em>Did </em>he? How could the bard so precisely surmise how Geralt felt about him, every time?</p><p>...What would make Jaskier feel as if Geralt appreciated his company right now? He wanted him to know.</p><p>Geralt supposed Jaskier was right to some extent, about his non-verbal communication - because just outright <em>saying it</em> felt wrong. He cleared his throat a bit, straightening up in his saddle.</p><p>“Jaskier?”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“...Would you play something?”</p><p>Jaskier stopped in his tracks, apparently flummoxed. “You want me to sing?”</p><p>“Er, yes. I would like that.”</p><p>Something hot wrapped itself around his head, suffocating him. Geralt thought it might be embarrassment. It was only aided by the examining, calculating look Jaskier was giving him, no doubt trying to crawl into his head to find an answer. By the grin he quickly eased into, he had probably found it.</p><p>“Okay,” he grabbed his lute by the neck, pulled it around to his chest. “Any requests?”</p><p>“Anything but Toss A Coin.”</p><p>Jaskier laughed. “Alright, you can have something I’m working on.”</p><p>The tension in Geralt’s chest lessened as Jaskier began to play, easing into a simple, playful melody. Something about a courting, jumping perspectives between two lovers. Geralt stopped paying attention to the lyrics fairly quickly. He was more content simply listening to Jaskier’s voice, rather than the words it held.</p><p>That voice. Always haunting him.</p><p>Though he needed his blessed solitude here and there, he always found himself longing for Jaskier’s voice when it was gone. Even if it could become unbearable at times, there was a comfort to missing him - liked it as a reminder that Jaskier was existing, somewhere out there.</p><p>That Geralt could track him down again if he truly needed it, either for a simple conversation or an adventure.</p><p><em>Adventure </em>- the word made him scoff. The Path wasn’t an adventure. It was a job. It was a traumatizing, maddening, tiring, terrifying, lonely, <em>excruciating </em>job, one he could only stop doing once he was dead.</p><p>...And yet. Jaskier did manage to make it, at times, feel like a notion so childish as an adventure. Now was an excellent example, as a matter of fact - their languid pace through the woods with no clear destination, a sun nearing it’s bed on the horizon filling the air with a golden light, setting their camp just a few hours away. Jaskier beside him, a bounce in his step that was so unfit for Geralt’s lifestyle, but miraculously stayed with him regardless - hair tousled by a gentle breeze, eyes closed as he sang, doing it as much for himself as he was for Geralt.</p><p>He was happy, and Geralt was happy, too.</p><p>He loved him.</p><p>Geralt loved him.</p><p>The thought punched all air out of his lungs, sapped him of all his energy, any of his thoughts devolving into an incoherent mess.</p><p>He felt a hand on his knee, stared at it as if it were a monster sinking its teeth into his flesh, stared at the worried face attached to it as if it were a pack waiting to do the same thing, and not a bard worriedly calling his name, asking him if he was okay.</p><p>A bard that Geralt was in love with.</p><p>For the love of -</p><p>“‘m fine,” Geralt managed, waving Jaskier’s hand away, staring forwards and ushering Roach - who had paused upon Jaskier and, likely, her own concern - into motion again. Jaskier jogged to keep up until Geralt realized he was going too fast, eased her back into a slower walk.</p><p>“You know - if it was that bad, you could just say so,” Jaskier wheezed, lute being swung onto his back again.</p><p>“It wasn’t. I’m fine.”</p><p>Jaskier, obviously, didn’t believe him. “Geralt…”</p><p>Geralt sighed, letting go of the tension in his shoulders, looking down at Jaskier and - yep, yeah, not anything he was imagining, still very much in love with that stupid concerned face. “Really, I’m fine, I just…” His nose scrunched up in thought, choosing his words carefully. “I need to… Think, about something.”</p><p>Jaskier stared at him for a bit longer, head tilted, eyes searching. Then, he shrugged. “Well now - that could take <em>days</em>, if one was lucky.”</p><p>Geralt laughed, exhausted and relieved. At least Jaskier deemed him well enough to make fun of him. Still, he felt something careful in the way the bard kept glancing over at him, uncharacteristically reserved. It took until Geralt telling him to write a ballad, it might last longer, for Jaskier to laugh and shake it off, return to his obnoxious self, letting Geralt think without distractions.</p><p>He didn’t even know how or when it had happened. He didn’t know how he had only realized it now. Because, of course - <em>of course</em>, he had hopelessly fallen for his friend. It made sense he should be fated for an unrequited and childish crush that might push away his only constant in this cruel world.</p><p>He couldn’t tell Jaskier, of course. Not now. Not ever.</p><p>He would take this horrible, selfish secret to his grave.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>bit of a short chapter, sorrie!! but on the other hand , You Know Whats Coming ;-3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>"the last two chapters should be done relatively fast", the author said, and would soon be punished for their hubris</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Say, Geralt - what's the situation on this lake?"</p>
<p>Geralt raised his head from where he was laying by the campfire, looking up at Jaskier.</p>
<p>"Situation?"</p>
<p>"You know," Jaskier gestured loosely, other hand fanning himself by the shirt collar, eyes not leaving the still surface of the water. "Monsters."</p>
<p>Geralt lifted himself up on his palms, cushioned by his bedroll. "Little late for a swim, Jaskier."</p>
<p>"Are you kidding?" Jaskier finally looked at him, affronted. "Under the full moon of a hot summer night is the <em>perfect </em>time for a swim."</p>
<p>Geralt snorted. "Suit yourself. But, yes. It's safe."</p>
<p>Jaskier grinned, took to unbuttoning himself, whilst Geralt politely averted his gaze and lay back down.</p>
<p>It was uncharacteristic, yes - both the politeness and the courtesy. They'd seen one another nude hundreds of times through the years, and it had never bothered Geralt before. But <em>now </em>was <em>different </em>than before.</p>
<p>He thought, upon realizing his feelings for Jaskier, keeping them secret would be as easy as it always had been. After all, neither of them had any idea until a few weeks prior, so suppressing it should come naturally to him.</p>
<p>Except now, Geralt <em>knew</em>, and now that he had started thinking about it, he found it impossible to stop. He could no longer ignore the way Jaskier singing him to sleep made his heart swell, how every fleeting touch from Jaskier, friendly as a pat on the shoulder, made his skin feel electrified and by Melitele, how was he to survive the next town? Where there would be more contracts, and inns with baths, and Jaskier's pampering that Geralt had only just agreed to stop questioning.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, now happened to be the time he had more questions than ever.</p>
<p>Because he couldn’t help but wonder...</p>
<p><em>No</em>, he thought, scolding himself - Jaskier was just a nice person. A nice, pretty person. A pretty person who was diving into the water just within Geralt's peripheral vision, sighing in satisfaction, dipping under and reemerging, shaking wet hair out of his face.</p>
<p>Geralt pulled his gaze back up to the sky, breathing hard out of his nose in frustration with himself.</p>
<p>"Oh, you can't get annoyed with me for having a little fun."</p>
<p>Geralt blinked, realizing Jaskier heard the huff out of context. "Wasn't aimed at you."</p>
<p>"Who, then? Roach? The fire? The sky itself? Perhaps some invisible foe right above us-"</p>
<p>"You might get one aimed at you now, if you keep going."</p>
<p>Jaskier snickered, and Geralt didn't know how to feel.</p>
<p>He was back to wondering, now.</p>
<p>He had noticed something, about how Jaskier talked - because for as much of it as he did, Geralt rarely experienced it to be about anything important. He had thought the bard was just bumbling and mindless the first couple of years, simply saying whatever came into his head as soon as it appeared.</p>
<p>To be fair, this wasn’t <em>far</em> from the truth.</p>
<p>However, after a peek into the bard’s journals one night - Geralt was <em>bored</em> and Jaskier was performing downstairs and the motherfucker had snuck through enough of his own belongings that he felt vindicated in the snooping - he had come to realize that Jaskier only ever voiced a small part of his thoughts. And apparently, he had a <em>lot</em> of thoughts, all the time.</p>
<p>It was no wonder the bard was so hyperactive and easily distracted, always talking, and moving, and fidgeting, and singing, and strumming, and composing, and reading, and jumping between subjects that seemingly had no connecting thread. The few pages Geralt had looked at were barely legible, observations and ideas and actual intelligent insightfulness and commentary scrawled all over them - so much so they gave him a headache and he had to put the journal away again.</p>
<p>What he had gathered was that Jaskier’s meaningless babble was all intentional.</p>
<p>It served to mask his subtle manipulations, big and small, of the social landscape he traversed so easily. He seemed harmless, so loud and obtrusive he slipped into the backdrop of people’s minds, unsuspecting. Hell, Geralt had fallen for it too.</p>
<p>This hadn’t bothered Geralt until his <em>other</em> realization, the one that had the potential to cause a lot more trouble between them - because <em>that</em> realization had awoken a selfish desire in him to get past that mask, tear off the bard’s disguise and be part of the few to see what lay past it. He, at last, understood Jaskier’s unending thirst for knowledge - Geralt had rarely felt a need so intense as his yearning to know everything Jaskier had cleverly hidden behind this character he had built.</p>
<p>He wanted Jaskier to drop his barriers with him, to unload as many thoughts as he wanted, big and small and dumb and smart and about anything in the world. He wanted to be the only one to truly know Jaskier, wanted for Jaskier to feel safe enough with him to not hide his cleverness. He wanted to marvel at all of Jaskier's observations, the quick wit of his mind, wanted to be the subject of it - to hear how Jaskier picked him apart and put him back together in his own head, mapped out his expressions and varying grunts. How Jaskier took <em>so much care </em>in figuring out what the Witcher was saying, what he was thinking, what he wanted.</p>
<p>By gods, did Geralt <em>want</em>.</p>
<p>He wanted, and wanted, and <em>wanted-</em></p>
<p>A splash of water hit his legs, interrupting his lamentful wondering and wanting. He jolted upright, rolling away and standing up in alarm, until he realized Jaskier was laughing at him, and <em>oh</em>, right, of course.</p>
<p>"Did I frighten you? I'm terribly sorry," he managed, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that told Geralt he was absolutely not sorry.</p>
<p>"Hm," Geralt grunted, annoyed, looking down at his wet pant legs with a frown.</p>
<p>"Oh, come on, just dry them by the fire," Jaskier rolled his eyes. "You could also stop being such a wet rag and come join me."</p>
<p>"How would that prevent me from being wet?"</p>
<p>Another splash. Geralt dodged this one, sending Jaskier a look of warning. In return, Jaskier simply raised an eyebrow - reciprocated the threat with an arm stretched out behind himself, ready to swoop through the water again.</p>
<p>Geralt snorted. "You're ridiculous."</p>
<p>"Pleaaase!" Jaskier whined, dropped his arm, and Geralt was going to kill him and then himself. <em>This</em> was why he had been fooled for so many years.</p>
<p>Another annoyed grunt escaped him as he tugged his shirt off over his head, dropping it on top of his previously discarded armor. Jaskier cheered, and Geralt concealed a smile by tugging off his boots. He also let his trousers dry by the fire, as Jaskier suggested.</p>
<p>He then debated, for a bit too long, whether to go completely nude as Jaskier had. Then he decided he would rather embrace death than clue newly discovered observant Jaskier off that anything was different.</p>
<p>He slipped into the water bare but for his medallion, trying not to make it obvious that he was looking anywhere but at Jaskier.</p>
<p>"Isn't that nice?" Jaskier tutted, and Geralt dared to shoot him an insincere glare. And then he couldn't look away, of course.</p>
<p>Because, yes, it <em>was</em> nice. It was nice how droplets of water clung to Jaskier's hair. How his wet skin shone in the moonlight. How his eyes gleamed, blue and bright and full of happiness. It was all very, very nice.</p>
<p>"You're staring at me," Jaskier pointed out, tilting his head apprehensively.</p>
<p>"What else is there to look at," Geralt retorted.</p>
<p>Jaskier laughed. That was nice, too. "Fair enough!"</p>
<p>Geralt felt restless. He took in a deep breath - decided to use it to push away from the dangerous intimacy of the conversation, swim laps around the lake and burn off all of his energy.</p>
<p>Jaskier stayed put, seemingly content just watching him, a soft look in his eyes.</p>
<p>That look scared Geralt more than anything else he had ever faced.</p>
<p>So, he kept swimming, right until he couldn’t any longer and had to drag himself back to the shore to flop down on his back. He closed his eyes, catching his breath… Which was made significantly harder when Jaskier swam up next to him, settling in, bare shoulder less than a breath away from Geralt’s.</p>
<p>"Hello,” Jaskier said, quietly.</p>
<p>Geralt couldn't help an amused snort, turning his head to look at him. "Hello."</p>
<p>Jaskier was looking back at him, smiling.</p>
<p>"Hello."</p>
<p>Geralt chuckled softly, energy and tension seeping out of him. He wanted to keep it, because tension was all that was stopping him from doing something reckless and unfixable, but how could he feel apprehensive when Jaskier was looking at him like that? He seemed utterly content and relaxed, resting within his own body for once. His scent was so sweet and soft and golden, making Geralt close his eyes and breathe it in deep, filling his chest with the aroma, willfully drowning himself in it.</p>
<p>He sensed Jaskier turn onto his side and raise his arm, and he didn't stop him. Didn't flinch away from the hand that softly traced the scar across his face, or when it caressed his cheekbone and sideburns to settle in his hair, running through the white strands.</p>
<p>Only when Jaskier paused did Geralt open his eyes, finding the bard looking down at him, partially leaned over his chest, hair dripping on him.</p>
<p>"Ah," Jaskier said, "I thought you might have fallen asleep."</p>
<p>Geralt puffed out a silent laugh. "Not far off, with you doing that."</p>
<p>"Do you mind it?"</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>"Good."</p>
<p>Jaskier kept running his fingers through his hair, gentle and slow and lovely.</p>
<p>"Haven't braided it, in a bit," he murmured.</p>
<p>Geralt nodded. That had been on purpose. He hadn’t trusted himself to not give his feelings away. Now, he felt a bit foolish for it, denying himself this intimacy. Because if Jaskier wanted to give it to him, how could Geralt reject him?</p>
<p>Jaskier's hand stilled again. Their eyes met, and his heartbeat was picking up, and - strangely - Jaskier’s was doing the same.</p>
<p>He wasn't conscious of when he raised his hand to rest on Jaskier's bare waist, but he didn't pull away once he realized, and Jaskier didn't scold it either.</p>
<p>Why not?</p>
<p>"This isn't platonic." Geralt voiced his epiphany without really meaning to, eyes widening. How had <em>that</em> happened?</p>
<p>Jaskier snickered a bit. "Nice of you to notice."</p>
<p>"Is this - is it - "</p>
<p>"Yes," he was interrupted, "yes. This is okay."</p>
<p>Geralt blinked at him, slowly. Smiled. "...Yes, it is."</p>
<p>Jaskier smiled back, biting his lip in thought. "This isn't how I ever imagined this might be. I never thought it would be so effortless."</p>
<p>"'This'?"</p>
<p>"Yes - this," Jaskier said, and clarified, leaning in.</p>
<p>Soft lips that tasted like the lake and like <em>Jaskier </em>pressed an uncharacteristically chaste kiss to his mouth. Geralt could barely stop from chasing after it when Jaskier pulled back much too quickly.</p>
<p>"What am I, a demure virgin?"</p>
<p>Jaskier scoffed, rolling his eyes. "<em>No,</em> I'd just - I'd like to be careful, with this."</p>
<p>Geralt considered him, considered what 'this' might be now. "Why?"</p>
<p>"I don't want to break it," he said. Added, quietly, "I'm afraid it might not be real."</p>
<p>“It is,” Geralt assured him, wrapped both arms around his body, pulled him closer. “I promise, it’s real.”</p>
<p>Jaskier let himself be tied up in the embrace, kissing Geralt again, on his jaw this time. “When did you get so soft, I wonder?”</p>
<p>Geralt chuckled, kissed Jaskier’s cheek. “I believe that was your doing.”</p>
<p>“Mmh. Me and Ciri both, I bet. And…” Jaskier sighed, freeing himself from Geralt’s arms to lay back down next to him instead. Geralt didn’t take his eyes off him, though Jaskier was staring at the sky now.</p>
<p>He waited for Jaskier to keep talking, but for once, he didn’t. “And?”</p>
<p>Jaskier’s jaw clenched, then unclenched, and clenched again, as he thought. “Yennefer.”</p>
<p>“...What about her?”</p>
<p>“She’s made you soft, too,” Jaskier murmured.</p>
<p>Geralt paused, carefully considering what to say. Like so often these days, he was afraid the wrong words might shatter something between them, something he had been taking for granted for a long while.</p>
<p>“Is that a bad thing?”</p>
<p>“No,” Jaskier hesitated, “but it does mean you need to tell me what you want. Because I won’t kiss you again, if I will always be second to her.”</p>
<p>“I don’t just want your kiss,” Geralt said, to put off thinking about the rest.</p>
<p>“Now’s not the time to get <em>fresh</em>, boy.”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I-”</p>
<p>“I know,” a sigh, “sorry. I can’t help it.”</p>
<p>Geralt forced his gaze up to the sky, thinking.</p>
<p>“You’re not second to her. But - she’s not second to you, either.”</p>
<p>“What does that mean?”</p>
<p>“That I… Care, for you both. Just, in different ways.”</p>
<p>Jaskier sighed deeply. “That’s not quite what I meant. I don’t doubt that you <em>do,</em> Geralt, but - but electing to not let me know you’re alive after a building you’re in collapses, abandoning me without a word to spend the night with her, <em>that’s </em>the part I can’t bear. I’m okay with sharing you, believe me, but I can’t stand to be treated like that any longer.”</p>
<p>“You won’t be,” Geralt turned his body to face him again, reaching for his cheek, “I promise.”</p>
<p>He so rarely saw the expression Jaskier was carrying now, devoid of any of the humor he usually carried into a stern conversation - he was open, and vulnerable, and sad. <em>Unmasked</em>. Geralt leaned in, gently pressing their foreheads together, closing his eyes.</p>
<p>“Please, trust me.”</p>
<p>Jaskier sniffled. “I do, with my life. Doesn’t change that I’m scared, though.”</p>
<p>“Then how do I soothe your worries, bard?”</p>
<p>"I believe time and patience is the remedy, here. Witcher<em>.</em>"</p>
<p>Geralt huffed. "Not much different, then."</p>
<p>"To what?"</p>
<p>"Er," Geralt ducked his head, bashful. Despite everything, it still felt weird to say it out loud. "...Caring for you."</p>
<p>"<em>Caring </em>for me?" Jaskier's tone was teasing again, which was a relief, if embarrassing.</p>
<p>"Yes, caring for you."</p>
<p>"How long have you known you <em>cared</em> for me, then, if I may ask?"</p>
<p>"Er, a few weeks-"</p>
<p>"A <em>FEW</em> <em>WEEKS?</em>"</p>
<p>Jaskier pushed him away and flew up to sit straight, splashing water about in the process, staring at him incredulously. Geralt stared back, eyes wide in alarm, worried he had somehow done something wrong.</p>
<p>"Yes? I - since you sang that new song, about the lovers."</p>
<p>"Ah, so you saw through it," Jaskier wheezed, calmer but still rattled, rubbing at his forehead. "I did think it was a bit on the nose. Lucky for me it worked out like this, in that case!"</p>
<p>Geralt stared at him.</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>Kept staring.</p>
<p>A penny dropped. "By Melitele, you didn't even realize that was about us, did you?"</p>
<p>"We weren't lovers," Geralt muttered in defense.</p>
<p>"Classic wish fulfillment, Geralt," he was dismissed with a wave of Jaskier's hand, "a man and a woman - because, you know, couldn’t get <em>too</em> obvious - living as traveling partners, dancing around each other for years, learning a language exclusively for them that masks true affection behind several layers of sarcasm and banter, and really, <em>what</em> do you have to say for yourself?”</p>
<p>"...I wasn't paying attention to the lyrics."</p>
<p>"I won’t take offence at that, given - I’m assuming - you were too busy <em>caring for me</em> to appreciate my poetic brilliance. What did it, then? I bat my eyelashes at you the right way? Hit a good note?"</p>
<p>"You existed. I finally caught up."</p>
<p>"Unbelievable," Jaskier huffed, feigning outrage. "I break my back for a decade trying to get you to-"</p>
<p>"<em>Decade?</em>"</p>
<p>Jaskier cleared his throat, looking down at his lap, fingers trailing an aimless pattern on his thigh beneath the surface of the shallow water. "Yes, well, you always took your sweet time, didn't you?"</p>
<p>Geralt wheezed out the air in his lungs, tilting his head back. "How come I've never noticed?"</p>
<p>"You're <em>you," </em>Jaskier scoffed. “I’ve grown into quite the formidable actor over the years, as well.”</p>
<p>Geralt paused. “Yes, you have.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s nice to have your artistic talents recognized once in a while-”</p>
<p>“No, I,” Geralt rubbed at his neck, figuring he should come clean about this sooner rather than later. “I looked in one of your journals, once. I know you’re smarter than you let on.”</p>
<p>“Ah.”</p>
<p>Jaskier breathed in, let it out in a lighthearted sigh.</p>
<p>"Well, that's unfortunate - can't impress you by breaking the standard of mediocre expectations, anymore."</p>
<p>"You never have."</p>
<p>"Wow, thanks," Jaskier snorted, and Geralt realized too late what he'd said.</p>
<p>"No, I mean," he hurried, "I've never thought of you as mediocre. I believed you to be foolish, yes, but..."</p>
<p>“But wits alone do not make greatness? I suppose that makes sense. I mean,” Jaskier gestured, look at you.”</p>
<p>“I hate you.”</p>
<p>“No,” Jaskier beamed, “you <em>care for me.</em>”</p>
<p>Geralt rolled his eyes. “Will you lay down again, now?”</p>
<p>“Mmh…” Jaskier tilted his head, considering. “Open your arms.”</p>
<p>Geralt did. Jaskier didn’t hesitate to settle into his embrace, resting his head on his shoulder, draping an arm around his midriff. For as much as his gaze wanted to drift, Geralt kept it locked on Jaskier’s eyes, now close enough to get absolutely lost in.</p>
<p>The corner of his lips twitched upwards. “Hello.”</p>
<p>Jaskier laughed softly, and Geralt felt the movement of it along his side. “Not that again, now. I’d much rather you get back to kissing me.”</p>
<p>“If I recall, you were the one who stopped.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well…” Jaskier trailed off, searching for a retort. He gave up with a huff. “Oh, <em>please</em>, Geralt, don’t torment me.”</p>
<p>And really, who was Geralt to deny him?</p>
<p>The kiss certainly wasn’t chaste, this time. It was more exploratory, much more satisfying; It had Geralt wrapping his free arm around Jaskier’s waist and the other man’s nails digging lightly into his skin where his hand rested, both of them pulling away quite out of breath. Geralt pressed his forehead to Jaskier’s again, listening to the beat of his heart, taking in the scent of excitement and peaceful joy emanating from his bard.</p>
<p>“Can I say it, then?” Jaskier quietly asked, after a bit of reverent silence.</p>
<p>“Say what?” Geralt murmured, distracted with reveling in the closeness of their bodies.</p>
<p>Jaskier hummed, fingers tracing over Geralt's chest absentmindedly. "That I love you."</p>
<p>Geralt suddenly felt out of breath, a shiver making its way through his whole body, leaving him loosely grinning like an idiot. "Yes. Yes, you can say that. As much as you like."</p>
<p>Jaskier laughed. "Good thing, too - I've quite a lot of years to catch up on, you know. <em>22,</em> to be exact."</p>
<p>“You only said ‘decade’.”</p>
<p>“Decade of me <em>knowing</em> about it, you beast.”</p>
<p>Geralt snorted, stole another kiss that wasn’t really stolen at all. “Maybe you should say it again, then.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I will,” Jaskier threatened - or at least, said it as if it was a threat, in between rolling atop Geralt to keep kissing him, though what the threat was meant to be Geralt wasn’t sure of. He was preoccupied with other things to think about, anyways. Like how good being caged in by Jaskier’s arms on either side of his head felt. Mapping out the length of Jaskier’s back, marveling in the soft give of his skin and how he was allowed to touch all of it - though he <em>did</em> settle his hands on Jaskier’s waist, for now.</p>
<p>“Now who’s being treated as a demure virgin?” Jaskier mused against his lips. Geralt pulled back a little, snorting.</p>
<p>“So desperate for my touch, bard?”</p>
<p>“No, I simply think it’s hypocritical,” Jaskier said, nobly. Geralt chuckled, but pressed his forehead to Jaskier’s, hmm’ing.</p>
<p>“...I’d rather not, tonight,” he murmured, hesitant. He didn’t want to be a disappointment to the man. “It would be a first for me, is all. The option to take things slow.”</p>
<p>“I’m quite alright with that,” Jaskier grinned, nudging Geralt’s nose with his own. “I’d like to be properly courted, too. Though it would still be a bit in reverse. Since I’ve already confessed my undying love and devotion for you, and everything.”</p>
<p>“...Say it again,” Geralt requested.</p>
<p>“Bit long to repeat <em>all </em>of that-”</p>
<p>Geralt broke him off with a needy little whine, hands tightening insistently on his waist. "I want to hear it again. Please, Jaskier."</p>
<p>"I love you," Jaskier complied easily, a hushed reassurance in their little bubble of intimacy. Then, louder, "I love you so terribly much, Geralt, it almost scares me at times."</p>
<p>Geralt kissed his way to Jaskier’s neck, buried his face in his shoulder. “I don’t want you to be scared with me any longer. I...”</p>
<p>His breath caught in his throat, came out strangled. He dropped his head to rest against the ground again, frustrated with himself. He loved Jaskier. He loved him <em>so much</em>, so why was it so difficult for him to say it?</p>
<p>“I… Jaskier, I-”</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” Jaskier muttered, voice barely a whisper, smiling as he lifted a hand to gently press his fingertips to Geralt’s lips, quieting him. “You don’t have to say it, not yet. I only want to hear it when you’re ready.”</p>
<p>Geralt breathed out softly in relief, body untensing. He felt the need to clarify - "it's not that I don't want to, just…"</p>
<p>"I know," Jaskier nodded, hand shifting to rest against his cheek. "I know how you are with words, dear… Hm!”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Well - I suppose it’s not dear ‘friend’ anymore, is it?”</p>
<p>Geralt laughed, despite himself - looped his arms around the small of Jaskier’s back, securing him in place. “I suppose not.”</p>
<p>“Hum. What to put in its place, I wonder? Dear love? Dear heart? Dear light of my life, dear center of the world, dear puppet master whoms’t cursed my dick-”</p>
<p>“<em>Jaskier,</em>” Geralt said, exasperatedly fond.</p>
<p>“Well, I suppose we can figure out the semantics later.”</p>
<p>And Jaskier kissed him again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this ! was ! so much fun to write !!! thank you for all your lovely comments, this has been a wonderful first venture into writing witcher content :-] ive got many more ideas, so hopefully it wont be the last either!!!<br/>thank you for reading, have a wonderful day &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>places you can find me:</p><p>- on <a href="https://mawbwehownets.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a><br/>- on <a href="https://twitter.com/mawbwehownets">twitter</a><br/>- in your garbage can, having a good time</p></blockquote></div></div>
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